"Easy--easy--I ain't interferin' yet," replied the rider. The
tone of his voice had undergone a change. A different man had
spoken. Where, in addressing Jane, he had been mild and gentle,
now, with his first speech to Tull, he was dry, cool, biting.
"I've lest stumbled onto a queer deal. Seven Mormons all packin'
guns, an' a Gentile tied with a rope, an' a woman who swears by
his honesty! Queer, ain't that?"

"Queer or not, it's none of your business," retorted Tull.

"Where I was raised a woman's word was law. I ain't quite
outgrowed that yet."

Tull fumed between amaze and anger.

"Meddler, we have a law here something different from woman's
whim-- Mormon law!...Take care you don't transgress it."

"To hell with your Mormon law!"

The deliberate speech marked the rider's further change, this
time from kindly interest to an awakening menace. It produced a
transformation in Tull and his companions. The leader gasped and
staggered backward at a blasphemous affront to an institution he
held most sacred. The man Jerry, holding the horses, dropped the
bridles and froze in his tracks. Like posts the other men stood
watchful-eyed, arms hanging rigid, all waiting.

"Speak up now, young man. What have you done to be roped that